


I'm always there for you

by sherlocked221



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, POV Molly Hooper, Sherlock Series 3 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1237177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlocked221/pseuds/sherlocked221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John won't talk to him.<br/>Lestrade is always busy.<br/>He's never going to his brother for help.<br/>He always had me there if he needed me.<br/>And he always found it hard to come to me because... I was the one that mattered.<br/>According to him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm always there for you

**Author's Note:**

> rated teen for implied slash but y'know. it's only implied.

Sherlock looked at me with teary eyes. My heart melted in his hands.  
"Oh Sherlock" I whispered and let him fall into my arms. He pulled me close for comfort and to hide his tears that made him feel less of a man, even though he was more of one than any I had ever met.  
He was a broken man but because the bits of him that 'mattered' worked, he ignored the bits that didn't. Until now it was virtually impossible.  
I felt him bury his head into my shoulder and his cold tears leak onto my bare skin. I gently kissed him though his black mess of greasy hair and unbuttoned his purple shirt. He stood up fully but hung his head. He didn't want me to see him cry.  
At an attempt to stay in control he tugged at my leggings but his broken mind made him weak. I put my finger under his chin and lifted up his head so I could kiss him. As we kissed passionately, I tasted his bitter tears on his soft red lips.  
Once we got Sherlock's trousers off, I lay him down on the sofa and sat on his thighs. He put his shaking hands on my back and gently pulled me down so my chest rubbed against his. I could hear his heart thumping like an off beat drum. I stayed close to him, hugging him tightly and kissing him comfortingly.  
At one point he cried, literally cried. I affectionately kissed him on the cheek and ran my fingers through his hair again. He just lay back thinking about John. Why did he hate him? Why is his brain deluded by the things he had seen after he faked his death? Why couldn’t he just delete his brothers evil laugh while he was being beaten to a pulp? It wasn’t even a fake laugh. It was as if Mycroft was enjoying thoroughly. He couldn’t delete the punches taken to his chest and stomach while he tried to make up a story so he could get out.  
Feeling slightly like I was taking advantage of he poor man, I climbed off him and lay next to him trying not to fall off the small sofa. He was too proud and sensitive to let me see his tears run down his pink cheeks.  
The poor man had lost his Sherlock Holmes. He'd lost himself and was completely broken. Even when he was on a case or doing deductions, he'd hear John's voice in his head telling him things like 'you've forgotten to turn your coat collar up' or 'Show off' He found it increasingly difficult to concentrate with out me or John there but he was engaged and he couldn't always be there for cases. That was life.  
I was there through all of it that day, when John’s voice haunted Sherlock. It was almost scary, Lestrade and I had no idea what was going on until he told me days later. I told him, if he ever needed anything, he could ask me. And I completely failed at telling him. you can have me I said. I mean, who says that when they’re trying to be helpful. And of course Sherlock had no idea what I meant. What would he want from me? Now that’s a good question. How am I meant to know? Well now I do. He can come to me when ever he wants with whatever he needs.


End file.
